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#anyway feel free to talk to me about fic!
joelscruff · 3 days
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forget my charms (dave york x f!reader) 18+
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a/n finally watched equalizer 2 and he's been living in my mind rent free! i don't really know what this is tbh, it was kind of a challenge to myself to try and write a drabble because i'm notoriously bad at keeping fics short & sweet. so i'm not sure how i feel about the lack of real story here but we go anyway! enjoy & please be sure to read the warnings! summary: your new boss gives you a memorable first day. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: fingering, lap sitting, power imbalance, infidelity, unprotected p in v (doggy), creampie, finger sucking, dirty talk, praise kink, tie used as a gag word count: 1.5k
You only met him this morning. It had been brief, his office just one stop of many on your guided tour the first day of your new job. Your co-worker had tapped lightly on his door, opened it a crack and told him he should come meet the new hire. Your stomach had turned when you'd heard him sigh deeply on the other side - you were already feeling out of place, more than a little like a fish out of water, and the concept of disrupting the boss on the first day wasn't appealing in the slightest.
But he'd been gracious. He'd come to the door and opened it wider, stood beneath the arch with an appraising little smile on his lips as he looked at you. It had been memorable, the way he'd taken your hand in his large palm and squeezed, peering at you with something attentive in his eyes, almost... intrigued. Welcome, he'd told you, it's lovely to meet you.
And now, only hours later, his fingers are in your pussy.
Pumping slow and deep, rhythmic and filthy as you lounge in his lap with your legs wide and your head resting languidly against the heat of his neck. He's got your skirt pulled up, one big hand spread firm over your trembling belly while he fucks you with his middle and index. The flickering blue of his computer monitor is your only source of light, showering his office in a dim glow.
You whimper and his fingers still, lodged deep inside your heat. He hushes you softly, strokes your tummy with his thumb and leans back slightly in his chair.
"Shh, sweetheart," he murmurs, voice low and husky, "Don't want the night crew to know what we're doing in here, now do we?"
No, you certainly don't. Can't even imagine what the reaction would be were anyone from the office to know you're being fingered by the boss on your first day. You bite down on your lip and lean back into his lap, look down with hooded eyes as he slowly resumes the slow plunge of his fingers. They're so thick, coated in a clear gloss of your release that glows blue in the light. He places his thumb on your clit, applies pressure, and you let out another pathetic whimper.
"Ohh, poor thing," he admonishes gently, "You want something in your mouth to help you stay quiet?" his hand comes up to brush against your face, "Hm? You need something to suck on?"
Your brain feels empty but you nod anyway, eyelashes fluttering as he wastes no time in slipping the middle and index of his left hand past the wetness of your lips. You suck immediately, closing your eyes and feeling them roll behind your lids as he fucks two of your holes at once, just taking, using.
Is this why I'm here, you can't help but think to yourself, did I only get this job so he could play with me like some kind of doll?
You can't quite believe you're even in this situation. You'd stayed late in order to make a good impression, still had some things you needed to figure out at your desk anyway. Everyone else had slowly trickled out of the office, until you'd realized all that remained was you and Mr. York. He'd smiled at you through the open blinds of his office, leaning back in his chair with his legs wide and his arms stretched behind his head. He'd brought one down when your eyes had met, crooked his finger as if to say, Come here for a minute.
You'd gotten up from your desk and entered his office, anxiety building in the pit of your stomach. You'd hoped you weren't about to be reprimanded for something you thought would impress him.
But he didn't reprimand you. He didn't mention the fact that you were staying late, didn't ask about how the job was treating you, if there was anything you needed, no. Instead, he'd looked you up and down again with that assessing, calculative stare and murmured, "Can you come sit in my lap for a little while, sweetheart?"
You suppose you could've said no. Probably should have, actually. That would have been the most logical thing to do - slam the door and quit your job, maybe even sue for harassment. Anyone else probably would have. But you'd taken one look at his crotch, seen the noticeably thick shape that bulged against his thigh, and realized he'd been sitting there watching you for who knows how long. He'd gotten that hard just from looking, assessing.
Fuck it.
"There you go," he breathes softly now, peering at you with dark and imploring eyes as he fucks your mouth and pussy, "That's a good girl, honey, I know," his brow furrows when you whine around his fingers, "I know, baby. You're doing so good."
He rocks you in his lap like you belong there, and it's impossible not to feel the way his clothed cock throbs against your ass. You want to see it so badly, want to touch it, taste it - but he doesn't give you the opportunity. Instead, he circles his thumb against your clit until you're shaking in his arms, hands gripping anything you can reach - the chair, your knee, his wrist. Your orgasm rolls through you and his fingers muffle the sound of your whines, your gasps, until your bones feel like jelly and your heart has slowed. He stills his movements again and lazily pulls all four fingers out of you, watches you breathe deeply and fall back against him with goosebumps rising on your skin.
"Get up now, baby. Bend over the desk for me," he tells you in that low voice, "Show me your pussy."
You pull yourself out of his lap on extremely shaky legs but obey his orders, inching forward a little to position yourself against his desk. You can feel his eyes on you as you reach back and pull yourself apart for him, show him where his fingers have invaded and explored, opened you up and made you drool.
"Juicy little thing," you hear him murmur, and then his belt buckle is jangling and you know what comes next. Legs still trembling, you keep holding yourself open and push yourself further down onto the desk, skirt pulled high and panties still hanging off one of your ankles.
He's filling you up in no time at all, cock plunged deep to the hilt and so much bigger than you'd anticipated. His tip kisses a spot inside of you that you're not sure anyone's ever been able to reach, and against your own volition you moan, low and long, full of pleasure and desperation.
You hear him tsk somewhere above you, "You really can't stay quiet can you?" He says it softly but it's full of condescension, like it's starting to genuinely bother him. Before you can apologize he's reaching down for something, still bottomed out completely inside of you as his arms and hands seem to do something out of sight. A few seconds later his blue polka dotted tie appears in front of your face, and then he's carefully settling the soft material between your lips, pulling back and tying it meticulously behind your head. A makeshift gag.
"Gotta learn to be quiet when I fuck you, okay?" he breathes, raspy and dark as he slowly pulls his cock from your pussy, only to feed it back to you again just as slow, "You don't want us to get in trouble, do you?"
No, sir, you want to whisper, but you can't. All you can do is nod slightly and grip the desk when he starts to fuck you in earnest, thrusting deep and hard before pulling out and doing it all over again. Your thighs quiver and shake against the cool wood, and as you lay there and let him take, you spot something out of the corner of your eye.
A framed picture of a family - his family.
You avert your eyes, turning your head slightly to see where his left hand is gripping your shoulder as he fucks you - you spot the wedding ring immediately. Christ.
But you don't stop it. You don't push him away, you don't leave. Even though you probably should. Even though the logical part of your brain is screaming at you that what's happening really shouldn't be, especially now that you know he's a married man.
You just let him use you. You let him fuck and fill you until he's gripping your hair in his fist and his cock is spasming and pulsing inside of you. You let him release his entire load inside your pussy, bare and messy. And then you let him pull you into his chair, tug the tie from your mouth and situate you back in his lap, still impaled on his cock.
Neither of you speak for a solid minute. He catches his breath while you try not to look at the photograph, to forget its existence entirely.
"The last one quit the first day," you hear him mumble, voice edged with tiredness, "But you won't, will you?" He thrusts shallowly inside of you, holds you against his chest as his cum starts to leak out and dribble down the hefty shape of his balls. "You'll let me do this, huh?"
What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?
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kingdomofnoah · 2 days
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mine all mine
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noah sebastian x afab! reader
a/n: ayoooo! sorry for posting like one fic and then dipping for a while. he’s a smutty lil blurb for y’all’s enjoyment, idk why i spent 20 minutes making a header for it and named it after a mitski song leave me alone ok
anyway. warnings under the cut.
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warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected penetrative sex, some light choking if you squint, swearing, dirty talk. that’s it i suppose
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You’re trying desperately to catch your breath, but it’s stolen with every slam of Noah’s hips hard against yours. He traces his calloused fingers down your spine, your skin a bit tacky with sweat before he lands a harsh smack to your backside. Your gasp melts into a moan that makes him laugh behind you, his fingers gripping onto both of your hips and pulling you backward to meet his own. Your back arches, lifting your ass higher and allowing him to sink even deeper with every thrust. “Fuck, baby, this pussy was made for me. She’s all mine, huh? Tell me who this pussy belongs to.” You’re still breathless, your jaw slack as Noah continues his practically punishing pace. When you don’t answer though, he lands another smack to your ass and growls out, “I asked you a question, who does this pussy belong to?”
You cry out and scrabble at the sheets with your nails, sobbing out, “Yours! Fuck, Noah, it’s yours!” You would say anything to keep him inside of you at this moment, the dizzying mixture of pleasure and pain so sweet and addictive. A groan escapes him at your declaration, an uninhibited sound that shows you he’s just as desperate to stay inside of you as you are to keep him there.
Grabbing a fistful of your hair and the nape of your neck, Noah pulls you upward onto your knees so that your back is flush with his chest. The act changes the angle again, forcing Noah to thrust his hips upward against your ass. You nearly fall forward onto the bed again, but Noah’s tattooed hand wraps loosely around your throat, keeping you pressed back against his broad chest. You reach back to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging at the roots to bring his face to yours. The angle of the kiss is almost uncomfortable for both of you, but it’s so desperate and wanton that neither of you care about the twinges of pain in your necks.
His pace is becoming irregular, a sure sign that he’s reaching his end. He knows this and uses his free hand to slide it down the tacky skin of your stomach and between your legs, swirling his middle digit around your aching clit. You whine wordlessly into the kiss and he curses against your lips, mumbling out sweet little praises into your mouth. Within mere moments, you’re hurtling toward the edge and fully willing to throw yourself into bliss. Noah can tell, somehow he always can, and he keeps the steady pace of both his thrusts and the swirls of his finger. He pulls his mouth from yours, eyes fluttering at your whimper at the separation, and tightens the hand wrapped around your throat. Groaning out a curse and your name, Noah’s hips falter as he grinds out, “You gonna cum? That’s it sweet girl, cum on it. Want it so fucking bad.” The term of endearment and the command is all you need, you cry out Noah’s name and throw yourself into the pulsing waves of pleasure. Noah groans again, his hand flexing on your throat and then his thrusts falter one final time, before he pulls out and spills across your backside. “Fuck, baby.” Noah laughs breathlessly, releasing your throat but letting his hand slide down to your sternum, keeping you upright still.
You’re boneless, you would collapse into a heap on the sheets if Noah wasn’t holding onto you so tightly, and you’re still reeling with ecstasy. Noah presses kisses along your bare shoulder and up your neck, his lips warm and you hum happily. You feel soft fabric across your back as Noah wipes his spend from your skin and you venture to twist your torso slightly to face him. His eyes are bleary, sleepy already, and you peck his lips with a kiss and murmur, “I love you.” The words are a bit slurred and you both giggle at your expense.
“My girl’s a lil cock drunk is she? Mmm, god I want you again already.” Indeed, you feel him twitch against your ass and you laugh, turn to face him fully, and cup his cheeks in your palms. He presses his lips to your palm, an act so tender your heart melts.
You smile and lean your forehead against his, “My big horndog, need food first, then I’ll ride you to sleep.” You promise and he grins, pecking your mouth and sliding his hands around your hips.
“Deal.”
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sydsaint · 3 days
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Hello darling I was wondering if you could write a Damian x reader fic where reader has a really bad bf (can make it another wrestler if ya want) and Damian gets into a fight with said boyfriend and then proves to her he loves her and is the better option and you find out reader always had feeling for him but was to nervous to say anything to him (some what based on ho hey song by limiters)
I hope you enjoy it!!! <3
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Summary: The reader has a bad argument with her boyfriend, Giovanni Vinci. Damian intervenes, unable to stand by while reader gets mistreated.
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You storm down the hallway with your boyfriend hot on your tail as you attempt to free yourself from his presence for a bit.
"Stop following me, Giovanni." You whirl around to face him with a scowl.
"YN, come on." Gio replies. "I said that I was sorry. What else do you want me to do?" He asks you.
You scoff and go to turn around and stomp off again, but Vinci catches your arm before you can move away from him. "I want you to stop ogling other women when I'm standing right next to you, dickhead." You yank your arm out of his grip.
"I wasn't ogling, Liv, I swear." Vinci attempts to defend himself. "I was just glancing around the room and she happened to be standing right there." He insists.
"You are so full of shit!" You laugh hysterically. "I saw you staring at her ass, Giovanni! The only thing that could have made it more obvious is if you started drooling!" You shout at him.
The commotion being aired out in the middle of the hallway earns itself an audience when one of the locker room doors swings open. Damian steps out of the Judgement Day locker room and locks onto you pointing an angry finger into Giovanni's chest.
"Everything alright out here, YN?" Damian makes his way over to your side to check on you.
"We're fine here." Giovanni answers for you. "It's none of your damn business anyway." He turns his nose up at Damian.
Damian rolls his eyes and turns to face you. "I was talking to, YN, asshole." He looks down at you with a soft expression. "You okay, YN?" He asks you again.
"I'm alright, Damian, thanks." You glance up at Priest and nod. "Gio and I were just having a disagreement is all." You assure him.
"Alright." Damian nods and backs off now that he knows that you aren't in any danger. "Hey, I was just about to run down to catering to grab a drink for Finn. You want to come with me?" He asks you.
Giovanni scoffs and reaches out to grab your arm again. "She's fine." He attempts to answer for you again. "Come on, YN. Let's go back to the locker room and talk about this like adults." He insists.
Damian grabs Giovanni's arm before it has a chance to clamp down on yours. He shoves Gio's arm back into his chest and steps between the two of you. "Try and grab her like that again and the only place you'll be going is the ER." Damian growls at Giovanni.
"Whatever." Giovanni scoffs and stares at you over Damian's shoulder. "Come find me when you're over this bitchy mood, YN."
You roll your eyes and watch Giovanni retreat back to the Imperium locker room to pout. Once he's out of sight, Damian turns back around and leans down so he can talk to you more comfortably.
"You okay?" Damian asks you. "Does he he all grabby with you like that often?"
"Only when he's in a bad mood." You grumble to yourself. "Which is more often nowadays." You admit. "But I'm fine, thanks, Damian." You smile at him.
Damian nods, thoughts of kicking Giovanni's ass crossing his mind as he looks down at you. "You can still hang with me if you don't want to head back to the Imperium locker room just yet." He offers. "We can chat some more if you'd like." He suggests casually.
"Yeah, that sounds nice, actually." You nod.
You and Damian take off and head down to catering so Damian can fetch Finn's drink like he said earlier. The two of you chat along the way, mostly about work.
"How long have you and Vinci been a thing, anyway?" Damian asks you while you're on the way back from catering.
"Umm, a little over a year now I think." You reply. "It's usually not like this. Gio's sweet, most of the time." You assure him. "We just...well it seems like he likes to argue with me sometimes." You sigh.
"Sounds kind of shitty if you ask me." Damian replies. "I mean, I don't mean to pry or anything like that. But you've seemed kind of quieter and more distant these past few months." He explains.
You unconsciously nod and bite the inside of your cheek. "Yeah well, being a member of Imperium isn't easy." You attempt a half-assed laugh. "Gunther keeps us all on a tight schedule. Anyway, thanks for talking with me Damian. Gio should be cooled off by now. But I'll catch you later, yeah?" You ask him.
"Yeah, anytime, shorty." Damian nods.
You head off to return to the Imperium locker room and Damian watches you go. 'Fuck! I am such an idiot!' he curses himself. 'why couldn't I just tell her how I feel?'
Later in the night, Damian and the rest of Judgment Day are heading out of the arena. Damian is loading up the trunk with bags when he hears arguing a few spaces away.
"I'll be right back, guys." Damian sets down his bag and heads off to find the source of the shouting.
"Why do you have to act like such a difficult bitch all of a sudden?" Giovanni lays into you verbally in the parking lot. "Just get in the damn car, YN! I'm done arguing with you!"
Damian rounds the corner just as Giovanni makes a move toward you. You step out of Gio's range and swat his hand away. "Just fuck off, Gio! God, I am so sick and tired of taking this verbal abuse from you!" You shout right back at him. "Go back to the hotel by your damn self! I'll find my own ride back." You turn sharply on your heel and begin to walk away with your bags.
"You aren't going anywhere until we settle this!" Giovanni steps forward again and goes to grab you.
You turn around to smack Giovanni but someone beats you to the punch.
Literally.
Your eyes widen in shock as Damian steps out from behind a car. You watch Priest reel his hand back before swinging it at Giovanni's face. Damian's first collides with Gio's jaw and Vinci reels back.
"What did I tell you earlier!" Damian puffs out his chest as he steps in front of you.
Seconds later, Finn and JD appear at your side, having been drawn in by Damian's yelling. "YN? You alright?" Finn sets a hand on your shoulder.
"What? Oh, Finn!" You jump before turning around. "What are you and JD doing here?" You ask him.
"We heard shouting." JD answers you. "Damian!? What the hell are you doing?" He turns to Damian who is now on Giovanni and trading blows with him.
The fight startles you and you shake a bit. "Can you guys separate them?" You ask Finn and JD.
Finn nods and beckons Dominick over from their car. Dom heads over and stands by you while Finn and JD break up the brawl between Giovanni and Damian.
Once the pair are separated, Finn drags Damian over to you and Dominick while JD keeps an eye on Giovanni. Damian calms down when he sees the worried look on your face.
"Shit! YN." Damian's expression softens. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just...well I wasn't going to let Vinci keep ragging on you like that." He tries to explain himself.
"I know." You nod. "It's okay. Thank you for wanting to help." You blink a few times. "Honestly? I don't know why I've put up with it for so long." Tears dare to spill from your eyes and blur your vision.
Damian recognizes the look on your face and pulls you into his chest for a hug. He rubs your back gently to soothe you while Finn helps escort Giovanni away from the group.
"You know that you deserve better. That's what's important." Damian comforts you. "You want to ride back to the hotel with us? I can get Finn and JD to get your stuff for you." He offers. "Then we can get you a different room to stay in."
"Yeah, that sounds like a start." You nod and pull away from Damian. "Thank you, Damian. I don't know what I'd be doing right now if you weren't here to help." You sniffle.
.Damian cracks a soft smile and hugs you tightly again. "I've got your back, hermosa." He assures you.
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crazylittlejester · 3 days
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I’m gonna go on a crazy ass rant because I’m upset and also very tired
A huge reason as to why I characterize Warriors the way that I do, regarding his fear of being poisoned and his food anxiety, is a way to explain myself and my own anxieties caused by my allergies, because when I say to someone I don’t think I can eat the food at the party/function/their house EVEN IF it was specifically made to be free of my allergens, they just don’t understand why I can’t eat it. They just don’t understand that just because it’s ‘safe’ doesn’t mean I feel safe enough to eat it, because there’s always that lingering ‘What if’ in my mind that food made outside of my vision is contaminated somehow.
It is so HARD to explain to people the genuine fear that you are going to die because a food created an odd texture in your mouth and you gave yourself a panic attack over nothing. It breaks my heart every time I go to my friends house and her mom offers to make me food because I’ve been at her house for thirteen hours and haven’t eaten a meal with them, because even though she cleans everything and offers to let me watch her make it, there’s still this loud screaming voice in my mind saying that that food is not safe to eat. And it just NEVER goes away. I feel awful because her mom is so sweet and willing to help me, and I just can’t ever accept because I manage to convince myself it’s contaminated every time
I have been dealing with this for my entire life and never not once have I been able to get someone to understand what this feels like or seen it shown in a media form anywhere. I’ve had family and therapists both just tell me to get over myself, because I’m being ‘ridiculous’ and the craziest thing to me EVER is that for the first time in nineteen years, I have had an outlet to throw this frustration into. Warriors and the food issues I have given him are so important to me because for the first time in my life I can explain this fear through a character and even if people may not relate or really, truly get what it’s like, they understand. They understand and they recognize it as a valid fear, and it’s because of a fanfiction about a traumatized war hero. (which is INSANE to me that this is what it took for people to understand, but you know what, I’ll take it)
This rant was inspired because I opened a sealed container of ice cream and the allergen labels were incorrect and now I can’t eat it and I’ve wasted money and I’m so upset and it’s been a really long week, but also because I never saw anyone talking about this when I was a kid, and if I’d had someone there to represent me like this, or just be there for me to connect with, I would’ve felt a lot better. Understanding allergies and food restrictions is so important for so many reasons, the most important being that if you know how to help someone, you can save their LIFE. And for other people who feel the same way I do, it’s so GOOD to know you’re not alone and that there’s someone out there who gets what you’re dealing with
If I can make people understand what it’s like to live life this way, then that is so important to me. If I can explain to people what to do in an emergency situation because their friend is having a allergic reaction, I will, because not enough people understand how allergies work, and I’m sick and tired of hearing stories about kids with allergies who were peer pressured into eating when they didn’t feel comfortable and then suffering the consequences, and I am TIRED of seeing companies mislabel their fucking food.
Also do NOT be afraid to ask any friends or classmates or coworkers with allergies how to use an epi pen because You Could Save Their Life. If anyone is curious, I’LL tell you, or look up a youtube video I’m sure there are some on there
Anyways, this is why I give Warriors the food issues I do in my fics, for anyone else out there with allergies who’s ever felt invalidated by people telling them their anxieties were stupid, and so people who have no idea what it’s like to fear your food will kill you can try to understand that this is the irritating reality for some of your peers. (not that everyone with allergies has this exact experience, I have a friend with allergies who just eats whatever and prays it wont kill them, but I know now that there are plenty of people out there with allergies who DO have this experience)
Sorry for kinda ranting, (I’m just a little guy 🥺), but this is something that is so hugely important to me, and sorry Warriors but you had too similar of a problem so now you get my exact issues 🫶
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nataliasquote · 20 hours
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This Is Me Trying | n romanoff
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Summary: Inspired by ‘this is me trying’ by Taylor Swift
Warnings: angst, break up, slight toxic relationship, alcoholism, glass smashing, no happy ending sorry
wc: 2.3k
note: happy TTPD countdown day :) thought it would be a good idea to post a Taylor fic before all I think and talk about for the next few days is TTPD 🤍
-⧗-
Some relationships are simply not meant to be. No matter how hard you force it, or swear that it will get better, the foundations were cracked from the beginning and no amount of work will ever truly fix them.
And as Natasha stood in the pouring rain, the wilting bouquet of flowers hanging limply by her side as you shut the door in her face, her resolve threatened to crumple like the cellophane in her palm.
She was convinced you were the love of her life. Days with you used to feel breathless and electric, a stark contrast to the strained atmosphere between the two of you now.
Natasha had tried everything. She gave her notice in at work, not just retreating to desk work but quitting all together, just for you. It was what you wanted, you’d made that clear. Your nerves couldn’t handle Natasha in that field for a day longer.
But that wasn’t enough; nothing ever would be. No matter what Natasha did, you were never going to work out. She quit her life for you, and somehow the rift expanded at twice the rate. Constant arguments and fights inevitably lead to an explosion of words that led to you storming out, the slam of the door rattling the windows in their frames.
You walked out that day and took a piece of her heart with you, leaving a broken redhead on her knees in the echoing apartment. Natasha began her free fall, not having work to consume every moment she had anymore.
How did Shield’s top agent drop so far behind that she was passed out on the couch mid afternoon, a bottle of vodka just out of reach of her fingers as her arm hung off the couch. Her hair was greasy, scraped back into a messy ponytail and her skin was blotchy as a result of her neglect.
When she wasn’t asleep, she watched her phone with her knees pulled up to her chest. It sat on the other side of the couch, the screen blank, and she almost bore holes into the glass from how hard she stared. Just willing a message to come through. A reply to the fifteen texts she’d sent you. One for every day you’d been gone, pouring what was left of her heart into an apology and promising to do better.
She thought she was the problem, her clouded judgment not allowing her to see that you weren’t all that innocent either. She never blamed you for being paranoid, working as a nurse in the busiest ER in the state had your nerves frayed anyway. Nevermind always being scared that you’d see your girlfriend on one of those gurneys, her name being added to a list of patients you’d lost under your care.
Fear made you cold and you took it out on Natasha. Did she deserve it? Absolutely not, but your words were out before you could stop them. The hot headedness between you both always clashed and on the nights you couldn’t solve it with heavy make up sex, at least one of you would be yelling whilst the other sat with their head in their hands.
Natasha didn’t know what she was doing when it came to love, you were her first and by the looks of it, her last. She was too hard on herself, and it hurt you to listen to the way she berated herself after a failed mission. But whenever her mind was set, there was no changing it. Harsh or soft, your words did nothing to change her destructive mindset and it was beginning to get to you. You wanted your home to be light, a place filled with love that you could return to after a horrible day. But instead it was dependent on how Natasha felt and whether you were going to be walking on eggshells that night or not.
But there was only so much creeping around you could do before your patience snapped. You didn’t mean to shout but it all happened so fast and suddenly there was glass everywhere and the last thing you knew you had grabbed your scarf and fled. Hands shaking on the wheel as you pulled up to a red light, pressing decline as Natasha’s name flashed up on your phone for the third time.
Twenty missed calls. Fifteen texts. Natasha was close to smashing her phone against the wall too. Her nose ran as she sat there, chin on her arm. Ears barely even registering the sound of the doorknob twisting or keys rattling in the door. She just wanted that message to appear, or even a phone call.
What she’d do to hear your voice again.
Heavy but tentative footsteps sounded down the hall before they stopped in the doorway of the living room. Natasha only looked up when a cough caught her attention, and the brunette in the doorway was certainly not who she was expecting to see.
“Y/n has gone to stay with her brother,” the woman began, her arms folded, unimpressed with the state of her friend. “Bucky told me everything that happened. Oh, and you look like shit.”
“Thanks, ‘Ria,” Natasha grumbled sarcastically, her voice low and monotonous. Maria walked over and grabbed her arm, surprisingly met with very little resistance as she pulled the redhead up off the couch and shoved her in the direction of the bathroom.
“I’m gonna clean up in here, you need to shower, and then we’ll talk.” Natasha went to protest but abruptly shut her mouth at Maria’s raised brow. “I’m moving past the fact that you haven’t called in about three months, so go, sort yourself out Nat. This isn’t like you.”
As the redhead trudged off to the bathroom, Maria collected up the empty bottles, shaking her head at the amount she found. How the same woman who had set records in Shield’s history and had the most prolific skill set she knew, had now drank herself into such a mess, Maria had no idea. Bucky hadn’t said much on your state but she doubted you were thriving either.
Once the living room was straightened out and all the bottles hidden away, Natasha emerged from the bathroom looking slightly better. She relayed the details from two weeks ago and Maria’s face fell at how Natasha barely kept it together. Her chapped lips trembled and her nails itched at the scars across her hands as she spoke, eyes looking everywhere but her friend.
“I still love her and it’s fucking terrifying,” Natasha cried, sinking her head into her hands as she hunched over her knees. “I’m not cut out for this love stuff, but I want it with her and now I’ve lost her. She won’t call, text, nothing, I’ve never felt so lost. I don’t even know what to do!”
“Nat, just breathe for a second or you’re gonna have a panic attack,” Maria interjected, leaning forward in her chair slightly ready to assist if needed. But Natasha just slumped back against the misshapen cushion and sighed heavily, zoning out on a bottle of whisky beside the tv.
“I’m trying, Maria. I’m really trying but she doesn’t want anything to do with me. What am I doing wrong?”
Maria shook her head and moved onto the end of Natasha’s couch. “You’re not doing anything wrong Nat, I promise. Ok, so the drinking was a shitty move, but at least you’re trying.” Her words seemingly fell on deaf ears but Natasha had heard her. And they resonated hard.
At least I’m trying… right?
“When was the last time you left the house?”
“I can’t,” Natasha croaked, her teeth chewing on her lip again. “I can’t go anywhere because all I see is her. It’s really fucking hard when every tiny thing is a reminder of her and what I’ve lost. Even the films, for god’s sake! I can’t even numb myself with tv because she’s somehow always there!” She gestured at the blank tv screen and came face to face with her disheveled reflection staring back from the black screen. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday, I tried-“
“It’s okay, birthdays happen every year. You’ll be there for the next one.” She gave Natasha a warm smile, and for the first time in weeks, Natasha felt her lips curl up slightly too. “I’m going to order takeout, and then you and I are going to watch a Bond film, no protesting. Give her time.” Maria spotted the phone on the table in front of her. “I’m also confiscating this or you’ll drive yourself insane.”
Natasha was too tired to protest, so she nodded blindly and let Maria drag her around. She didn’t admit it, but letting her mind drift away from Y/n for an evening was refreshing. Maybe she could do this. If she tried hard enough, life could be good again. She could work through it, toughen it out like she used to do.
After all, this was her trying…
But the same couldn’t be said for Natasha a week later. She’d woken up late and anxious, after a nightmare involving Y/n had shaken her to the core. She waited out the day with sweating palms but as the clock struck seven she couldn’t wait any longer. The weather was horrendous and heavy raindrops ricocheted off her windscreen as she drove to the grocery store, her eyes hazy in the streetlights.
Grabbing the first bouquet of flowers she saw, Natasha walked down the alcohol aisle to get to the checkout. But her eyes fell on a familiar bottle of brown liquid and she froze, almost dropping the flowers onto the floor.
The first bottle of whisky you’d ever bought her as a gift, the same one that was on the tv stand, now stared back at her on the shelf, the reduced sticker glaring bright. Without a second thought, Natasha grabbed it off the shelf and scanned it at the self service, her chest heaving as she fumbled with coins to pay.
The rain hadn’t eased up and her thin hoodie did nothing to stop the water from soaking into her skin. Her purchases lay abandoned on the passenger seat, the place you normally sat, as she weaved through the streets towards your brother’s house. She knew the way for emergencies and a single thanksgiving dinner.
But she didn’t get out of the car straight away, like she’d envisioned. The engine cut off and she sat in the dark vehicle, eyes trained on the front door like she willed you to come out and greet her. All the courage had suddenly fled from her body and she felt like curling up on herself like a scared child.
With a grunt, she grabbed the flowers, leaving the bottle discarded on the seat, and crunched across the stone driveway to the front porch, knuckles confidently knocking on the damp wooden door. Faint rustling could be heard and Natasha thought as though her heart would fall out of her chest and drop onto the ‘Welcome’ mat like a cat’s peace offering of a mangled bird.
The door opened. Natasha’s legs almost gave way when she finally saw your face, paler and a little thinner than it was before. She watched you take her appearance in, the soaked bouquet of flowers slightly crushed from their journey. Her mouth opened and closed, no words offering themselves up for her to use.
“I, um-“
“What are you doing here, Natasha?” You asked, voice cold. She wasn’t used to you talking like this to her, even if that’s how the last month of your relationship had been. She remembered the happier times and clung on to them for dear life.
“I just…” she trailed off, feeling so ridiculously hopeless. Maybe she didn’t quite know what to say, now that she was actually here. “I miss you- us. Look, I just wanted you to know that I’m trying, I really am, and I can do better. I want to make it up to you, please Y/n.” She held out the bouquet, feeling more like a teenage boy getting rejected by his crush.
Y/n’s conflict was so evident in her eyes, but she could feel her brother’s presence only meters away and she knew what he’d say if he invited Natasha inside.
It was too soon, and as much as she wanted nothing more than to run into her redhead’s arms, the smash of a plate still echoed in her mind and she couldn’t go through that again. Not yet anyway…
“I can’t, Nat, I’m sorry. I know you’re trying, I am too, but I can’t do this again.” Natasha’s eyes threatened to fill up with tears as she gulped. “Not yet. I’ll call you when I’m ready and we can talk. I’m really sorry.”
You didn’t mean it, but you had to shut the door before she saw your tears fall. It barely fell into the lock before you sank to the ground, shoulder against the door as tears streamed down your face. Seeing her face hit you harder than ever before and you wanted to run into her arms, feel her and smell her around you as you promised everything was going to be alright.
But it wasn’t.
And as Natasha trudged back to her car and leaned against the locked door and the rain beat down on her fragile body, she let out the most heart wrenching sob. The flowers dropped onto the soaking asphalt as she pulled her arms tightly around her body, trying to mirror the comfort that your hugs used to provide. She didn’t even care that she’d probably get sick from the rain, nothing mattered anymore.
Nothing mattered but you, and your name fell from her lips as she cried, tears mixing with the raindrops. She didn’t know you were crying out for her in Bucky’s arms only meters away, wanting another chance.
You wanted to try again, all for her.
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whenyouwishuponastar7 · 11 hours
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Hi everyone!
I have to address something that has gone on and is currently occurring. This is the last thing I want to do because I have spent eight years in different fandoms and avoided as much drama as possible. I want no part in it. I want to enjoy my time here.
Unfortunately, this is no longer drama. This is about an individual harming people, their mental health, their safe spaces, their enjoyment of fandom, their favorite ship, and their writing. This is about an individual who chooses bigotry over friendship and will align themselves with bad people for popularity.
And they don’t care who they harm by doing it.
This person made my life a living hell for over five months. It started in August, but things took a turn in October. I was finally free of them in late February because that is when a fandom event ended that tied me to them.
During this event, this person stressed me out to the point of tears. They made passive-aggressive remarks about various things, which made me feel insecure about my fic and writing. They unexpectedly changed their medium and didn’t talk to me about it before they did; I admit I was taken aback, hurt, and short with them. I apologized and took accountability the following day.
From then on, I tried to be as supportive, kind and understanding as possible.
I was “pushy” in December and January because this person had not produced a single finished piece of their art, which would total ten pieces. I knew it was too late in January to get a pinch hitter, and I don’t care that I asked a few times how it was going when I had nothing. I handed them a completed fic on August 28th. They had nothing until mid-January (and almost didn’t make it to this deadline) but didn’t start the bulk of their work until late January 22nd and finished (except polishing and watermarking) on the 26th.
Final submissions were on January 31st.
It took them four days to do what they hadn’t done in five months. I asked if they needed an extension, and we got one because they were not done by the final submission day. I had watched another writer’s artist drop out at the last minute, and mods said they couldn’t find anyone to pinch-hit for them.
This experience was a bad one. I can’t express how shitty it felt. I didn’t write for three months during it, and the fics I’ve written since then aren’t very good. I also have watched my readership disappear—getting the hits and kudos I did before October stopped.
I had a feeling this individual might have been involved if they were talking about me, but I thought I was being paranoid. I still may be, but since this has all happened, I have started to regain readers. I find that interesting.
Anyway! This whole thing ended, and it was bitter for me. I don’t have any more enjoyment in this fandom. I love my ship, but I currently have no desire to write them. I’ve been depressed and I’m scarred from fandom events. This person took away my joy when I only wanted to participate in a fandom event with my friends and have fun.
Because fandom is supposed to be fun, it’s not supposed to do this to people. It’s insane that it does this to people, and I never wanted to be involved in this bullshit.
This person has gone on to enjoy other fandom events, write and produce art, and seems to be doing fine.
Through small but interesting events, I started to learn about this individual’s ‘perspective’ on the entire thing with me. And, hoo boy, it was a fucking ride.
I am still shocked, amazed, flabbergasted and kinda pissed off about how this person lied about me. Everything they said was a complete lie. They shared my DMs via screenshots out of context, warped what we were talking about to play the victim and get sympathy, and flat-out lied numerous times. I have been accused of forcing them to do things during the event when I have screenshot proof that never happened.
For everything this individual accused me of, I provided screenshots to tell the fucking truth.
Two people have told me the same phrasing: they made me out to be a monster.
A monster.
If anyone knows me, my character, they know I’m not a goddamn monster. I try to keep my head down, stay in my lane, play in my sandbox corner, enjoy my ships, and have fun with my friends.
To be called a monster or to have someone say, ‘you’re nothing like they made you out to be,’ is the most surreal moment of my adult life.
This is fiction, fandom; it’s not real, and not everyone makes a living off it. It’s a hobby, and it’s supposed to be enjoyable. Once we step away from our computers and phones, no one knows us as so and so, writer or artist of Ship. Meanwhile, this person is making me out to be the worst human being alive, and it is absolute insanity to learn how deep it goes.
The twists and turns, the lies, the complete lack of reality, the delusion. It’s creepy and disturbing. And, through finding all of this out, I pieced together a pattern of behavior that this individual has:
When you do something they don’t like, they distance themselves, become cold and passive-aggressive, and hold themselves above you. You are no longer of use to them. They dangle their friendship and attention on a lure, hoping you’ll bite, only to throw you back under.
Please understand that this is a dangerous thing—this is not fandom drama—this is a dangerous individual, and the person with whom they choose to spend their time speaks volumes.
I will not share names or screenshots. Screenshots have been shared with the right people, and I will not make it a public spectacle. I also choose to protect the privacy of my friends and others involved in this, of which there are many.
I have been accused of forcing this individual to do things, hating them and their work, being extremely pushy and stressing them out, and that my server was unwelcoming and the people in it were unkind, and various other things. Small things that didn’t mean anything to me were taken extremely personally and made into more lies to make this person a victim.
Such as my preferred formatting for posting my fic links on tumblr. They did not respect it, even though I attempted to respect their formatting for posting their art numerous times earlier, but I was told not to stress about it and, you guessed it—accused of forcing them to change things behind my back. Again, screenshots have been given to the right people.
This individual can delete everything, but we have our proof, as we have been gathering it. We will not publicly share anything, but if this individual decides to, we have the evidence to back it all up.
There were so many creepy and fucked up things that happened. I can’t list them without getting too personal, but please understand this person does not belong in our fandom.
They chase popular people, especially artists, to ‘collect’ them and lie to and manipulate their friends for sympathy. Their friends need to step away and see the light because they are being used—it’s not a real friendship. It is transactional.
And you should be offended. They will cast you aside when you’re useless to them, too.
If I seem mad, it’s because I am. I have been dealing with this since August, when I realized that many of their comments were strange. I didn’t know those were red flags at the time. This individual pretends to be friendly and claims to be ‘the nice one’ when things go wrong so they can keep their reputation. Interactions with them might seem harmless, but looking at them with a different scope makes them something far different.
Don’t ignore red flags or gut instincts.
This is my story, and it is not told exactly how I wish I could tell it. But I know this individual has hurt numerous other people. I was going to make this post without the ability to reblog, but I am leaving it open for now.
If you want to add your story, as I suspect many of you know who I am speaking of, please do. I ask that you avoid telling anyone else’s stories for them unless you have permission. Protect each other.
This stupid shit unites us. I’m not afraid anymore because I’m sick of watching my friends get hurt again and again.
This individual has befriended a known bully and transphobic person. I won’t speak any further on this because it is not my story, but please bear in mind that they chose a TERF over trans friends. And we know what they say about association.
Blindsided victims of this individual are not at fault for this person’s actions.
See something, say something. Terfs and bullies can GET FUCKED.
Share your story.
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miloformula123fan · 19 hours
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Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife author!reader? ( He's at Williams ) He always goes to her events even though he's busy but he still makes time just to support her. And vice versa. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks!! :))
this is definitely not amazing, but im secretly quite happy with it
(also updates are gonna slow the fuck down because i have assessments and exams this term yay /s)
Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.
also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better
and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)
james vowles x wife!author!reader
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book talk:
Y/N watched as a teenage girl walked up to the microphone. She clearly looked nervous, as had many other people coming up, but Y/N tried to make her feel as at ease as possible.
“Um…hey Y/N, my name is Elodie, and I just wanted to say how much I love your writing…” - Elodie
James quietly shut the door, once Logan and Alex were through, and didn’t try and push through the crowded room, they instead settled for a spot near the back where they could still see Y/N. They were sure that if people recognised them, they would be shunted towards the front or ushered backstage. They didn’t want that, they just wanted to stay inconspicuous at the back.
“Aww thank you Elodie, what was your question?” Y/N smiled reassuringly
“Um…well, for your book, ‘a sweet sting of salt’, I was just wondering if you had any inspiration for the character Tobias. While he isn’t the best character in the story, you said he was one of your favourite characters to write, and I was just wondering why?” Eloise asked
“Oh, that is a good question, thank you Elodie. Um… while the actions are obviously not based on him, a lot of Tobias’ so-called ‘good’ elements are actually based on my husband. So…okay I’m gonna hope that everyone has read the book, so I don’t spoil it,” she smiled “Um, so for those of you who are unaware, my husband is James Vowles, and he is the Team Principal of Williams, which is a motorsport for those who are very out of the loop. So I guess the main words I would use to describe both Tobias and James, other than loving because Tobias is definitely not, are logical, quiet, grounded, organised and productive.”
James smiles, watching his wife talk about something she was so passionate about.
“So for example, for logical qualities for Tobias and James in chapter 10, Tobias uses deductive reasoning, which I would like to say is James’ strong suit, however he sometimes misuses it, like deducing who ate the chocolate, the wife or the dog. Tobias uses it for more evil, using it for working out how to do the things he does. Maybe they are more evil and similar and similar.” Y/N pondered, garnering a small laugh from the audience
James stopped smiling, as he listened to his wife compare him to a literal murderer in her book. Logan and Alex were standing next to him, trying to avoid their laughs.
“Then for quiet, in chapter 16, James likes sneaking around and scaring the shit out of me when he gets back from the factory and from races to scare the shit out of me, and Tobias uses it for murder. Huh, maybe these 2 characters are closer together than I thought.” Y/N pondered, laughing as she saw her husband’s face
“Darling, I’m not a thief and a murderer. I honestly don’t know why you based Tobias off of me.” James tried to mediate.
However it was enough for Alex and Logan to burst out laughing, joining in with the rest of the crowd, who had discovered that James was there and found it very funny.
“I’m just saying you share similar qualities, more than I initially insisted. Are you sure you didn’t secretly murder someone?” Y/N tilted her head, as if genuinely thinking about the question
“Darling…” James tried to plead again
“ANYWAY - Then for grounded, in chapter 18…” - Y/N, moved on, continuing with her ideas.
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garage:
“And during this safety car period, Alex, our camera man has gone for a wander and he has gone down to the Williams garage, and while we’re normally looking at the team principal or other important people, we have instead zoomed in on Y/N Vowles. Now for those who don’t know, she is a writer, and she seems pretty hard at work at this book on her laptop. Now that will be good news for anyone who reads her books, including me, she writes very good books, available at all the awesome book stores, and no she hasn’t paid us for that, we just think her books are amazing. Oh and she waved at us. Hi Y/N!” - Jolyon said from the commentary box
James smiled at the sight of Y/N on his screen. While this weekend had been very stressful, it was very nice having his wife be there for him in the garage and then back at the hotel rooms, even after all the late meetings. He watched as she smiled and waved at the screen, and he was unable to resist the temptation as he smiled at the picture and waved back, earning another laugh from the commentators.
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book talk part 2:
“Sorry Y/N, my name is Leo, this is a bit of a personal question…” a teenage boy asked
“...as long as it’s not when I’m having a baby, or where I live, it should be okay, hit me!”  Y/N tried to put him at ease.
“Your schedule for this book tour is a little all over the place, if you don’t mind me saying, it was basically like the first 2 months of the year, and now there’s just kinda weeks off or even months off, and I was just wondering if there was any sense to the schedule.” Leo shuffled awkwardly, unsure of how she would react to the question.
“Ah, well there actually is. First off, I cannot tour every week of the year, because I think I would just simply die. But the reason I picked those weeks off is because if my husband again. Are you guys sensing a pattern here? I love James, and I really want to support him at all the f1 races. So those are the weeks I took off, basically. And second, Baby Vowles is due in 6 months, thanks guys!” Y/N laughed as she put down the microphone and walked off stage, laughing as the cheers from the crowd grew louder.
---
taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206
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I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :
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(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )
#tumblr polls#hrmm... a little poll perhaps.. about a subject I find interesting.. since this image came across my facebook today#still really not feeling that well. no longer shaking violently and such but I still feel weird and weak much more than usual#They did say my markers for like infection or inflammation were elevated but that they werent sure of the cause so hopefully#it's nothing too serious. they did also say a lot of different things can cause that thing to be higher than normal but didn't go into spec#fics of what. maybe some of them are relatively benign or something. I still havent felt much back to normal since#I got really sick that one time though. I feel fine on and off but then little bouts of feeling weird and sick happen. hrmmm#ANYWAY.. looking for small ways to be productive. such as little doodles on evil ipad or editing game videos#or posting polls or cat pictures or some other like not very labor intensive things#I WISH I COULD FOCUS on writing HHRGGhh... I need to finish my game.. it would be so freeing.. a project that's been looming#over my head for like 5 years even though througouht that 5yrs I've probably spent a total of 3 months working on it lo.. ANYWAY#I still partially really cannot beleive that people CAN see stuff in their heads. There's always part of me that's thinking like. well mayb#e everyone DOES see the same exact thing but we just describe/conceptualize it so differently that we think we're talking about#different things when we're really not. But I have been assured by people I've talked to about it that they can GENUINELY really see#stuff in their heads like as vivid as an actual picture in real life or something. And the other senses are neat too. Like for exmaple I#can hear in my head much better than I can see imagery. I still CANNOT hear vividly like as if I were listening to actual music out loud..#but I think it's developed more than my sight. AND interesting how this varies the creative process. a friend I was talking to on the phone#said they write by literally just watching stuff play before them like a movie. where my process is COMPLETELY different. AND that affects#the content/what details we focus on as well as our individual styles of writing have differences that can be traced back to that.. hrmm
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fivefeetfangirl · 9 months
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so... i'm soon done with 91w, which has honestly been the most insane roller coaster i've ever been on lol. BUT i don't want to get off the roller coaster, or at least stay in the amusement park, so if you have a fic you're absolutely crazy about, or even just think i should read, please please please rec it!! it doesn't have to be popular, it could be your own even! so this is your sign to spam the notes with fic recs <33
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s2pdoktopus · 3 days
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The brothel experience.
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Transcription: Gumball: I was born in the year 2000! Rob: and I was born in the year 1999. Both: we cant afford a house!
something about Gumball being 12 years old in 2012……
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no-psi-nan · 1 year
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My post-canon fic series On the fliⓟⓢⓘde of a meteor covers what I think would happen from the crew's senior year of high school until about 3 years afterwards.
Then there's gonna be a timeskip to an epilogue where they're all thirty. And this is the relationship chart at that 30 year mark!
Probably going to have to click on this one to read it lol, but the fewer the dashes on the lines the stronger the relationship.
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Anyways, back to writing, now that I'm not crashing Google Docs with the sheer amount of fic I've crammed into one document lol...
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laikuh · 10 months
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@setyourfireonme you didn’t ask but here are some snippets of my dms with @omegabobbysinger re: deanbobby. China had some amazing insights too, I just didn’t share without permission.
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chronicowboy · 2 years
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the persistence of memory | 58k | 9/9 (completed)
Eddie turns to frown at Buck, sees his own questions reflected in his friend's eyes, when the gun goes off.
This time, Buck doesn't freeze.
And Eddie doesn't fall.
Well, not technically.
Technically, Buck tackles him to the ground.
Its slightly more enjoyable than collapsing into a puddle of his own blood.
chapter one: prologue
chapter two: day one
chapter three: day two
chapter four: day three
chapter five: day four
chapter six: yesterday
chapter seven: day five
chapter eight: day six
chapter nine: tomorrow
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fellshish · 2 years
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Hi. Sorry if I'm bothering, but I started the Hooker fic now and even though I've only read one chapter so far, I love it already. So thank you again for that rec.
I finished "Castiel Novak's desk, This is Dean" the other day and needed a new romcom kinda fic, so it was perfect.
If you have more recs that are romcom-y like these two I'd appreciate to hear those.
Hope you have a good day.
x HookerFicAnon (I've decided to refer to me as this now, sorry?)
To anyone reading this, this the delightful fic where dean is an escort
My other romcom-y au recs are:
A crash course in computer safety (85k, E): tropey AND funny. Cas is CIA and he’s assigned to Dean, who has accidentally downloaded important government info to his brain
Famous last words (E, 111k): soulmate au where cas finds out the guy who has the same soulmark as him is kind of… a famous actor. #awkward!
Pies and prejudice (E, 97k): it’s pride and prejudice AND bakeoff and it’s EXACTLY what your romcom heart wants bestie
Andrew Lloyd Webber gets a pass (E, 37k): they’re rival actors and get cast in a theater production of cats together, oh whatever will happen
The birds and the T’s (E, 130k): one runs twitter, the other runs tumblr. Sooooo many fandom references and it gets a little meta too (ok a lot meta)
For all you young hockey players out there, pay attention (E, 130k): known in fandom as ‘the hockey fic’ so…
Let the old ways die (M, 35k): kind of A star is born vibes. Certain scenes in this fic will stick to you, and some songs you won’t listen to the same ever again
And this your living kiss (M, 57k): there isn’t a world in which i don’t rec this fic. If you haven’t read this yet, read this first. Dean used to be a famous poet, under the pen name jack allen… now he dips his toes back into the world of poetry by auditing a class with professor novak, who happens to be the number one authority on jack allen :/
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parvuls · 1 year
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okay wait I'm writing an actual post so I can start handling all these emotions
#in the tags#because I am extremely aware of the privilege involved in buying extra content and even getting it shipped so fast#if seeing madison/kickstarter talk bothers you feel free to ignore this post! it'll likely be my last one on the subject.#but the thing is: three and something years ago I was deeply depressed and confined to my house because of covid#I hadn't been active in any fandoms in 3-4 years at that point and I started to think I'd never feel this passionate again#and then I read omgcp in a fit of insomnia one night#and then waited with baited breath for the last episode to go up so I could write a completley canon compliant madison fic#I spent six months obsessively writing it.#it was my first long fic in 5-6 years and working on it honestly - genuinely - dragged me out of that bad place.#when I posted it I knew one day it'd be jossed by canon madison but I was so okay with it. I couldn't WAIT#and tbh I thought it'd happen much sooner than it did#but now we're finally here and it weirdly feels like a big moment for me#like a: look where we were and where we're at now kind of moment. like a: end of an era kind of moment.#by no means the end of my omgcp era#but I think a part of me just felt unfinished as long as this moment was still unfulfilled#anyway. if you were here when I was completely new to this fandom and just started talking about that 2015 summer nonstop#just know you were a major part of my mental health journey during covid and that I appreciate it so fucking much#rip madison fixation 👋 you've served me well#text
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